


maybe i got this one right

by celestixl



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, Ronan POV, aka destructive pining, also ??? this is just filler tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 17:39:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6620074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestixl/pseuds/celestixl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just too fucking hot.</p><p>Ronan felt weighed down. He felt lethargic -- and not in a good way. Not in a loose, relaxed sort of way. No, he felt heavy. The heat felt like a stranger with a gun pushed to his head, safety off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	maybe i got this one right

**Author's Note:**

> i was angry about not having inspiration for my other pynch fic so i wrote this self-indulgent fluff. apologies in advance for run-on sentences. it’s a stylistic choice.

It was just too fucking hot.

Ronan felt weighed down. He felt lethargic -- and not in a good way. Not in a loose, relaxed sort of way. No, he felt heavy. The heat felt like a stranger with a gun pushed to his head, safety off.

He wanted to get out -- he felt trapped in this heat. He wanted to go 90 on a 45 mph winding Appalachian backroad; he wanted to stand at the edge of a cliff and feel the wind blow him in any direction it wanted -- so long as it was a cold wind. He wanted -- anything but this. It was stifling, this heat, sitting in front of St. Agnes, waiting for Declan and Matthew to finish socializing and smiling and sweet talking the congregation. He undid the top three buttons, ignoring the dirty looks of the people exiting the church around him. And he couldn’t go back into the church, not today. No matter how nicely air conditioned it was. 

He wasn’t even sure how long ago he’d come out here, needing to be out of the quiet ribcage of the church. The sun had beat all thought of time from his head; there was sweat trickling down the curve of his spine.

Ronan stood. He wasn’t really thinking; he wasn’t sure he was capable of thought at this point. He pushed himself to his feet, walked around the side of St. Agnes and up the stairs, and then he stood staring at Adam’s door, unsure of why or how or when he’d gotten here, sure only of the heat still pressing at his back, even with the sun out of sight. 

When the door opened, Adam was standing there, blinking blearily at Ronan from across the threshold. Late morning sun filtered through the windows behind him, casting a warm glow over the room, over Adam’s tousled hair, over his freckles. Threadbare, worn sweatpants were slung low on his hips, and it was clear he’d only just rolled out of bed and pulled the rumpled t-shirt on. Ronan’s chest contracted slightly -- guilt for waking Adam up, nothing more, Ronan told himself -- and then Adam smiled, small but genuine. 

Ronan wanted to punch the wall. 

“You wanna come in, or are you just goin’ a stand there all morning,” Adam asked, and in the early Sunday light, he didn’t bother to mask his Henrietta drawl, the honey vowels and smooth syllables gliding over one another and melting right into the heat of the day. Ronan felt coated with them. Adam stepped back, and Ronan pulled the door shut behind him as he followed. 

“Are Declan and Matthew still here?” Adam asked over his shoulder, busying himself with the small coffeemaker. His shirt was creased and tucked under at his hip, a blatant line of tan skin showing, and Ronan felt an irrational urge to tug it down. (Or maybe the urge was to run his fingers over the skin, loop his arms around Adam’s waist. 

He wanted to punch the wall again.) 

He shrugged. Then added: “Don’t know,” realizing Adam couldn’t see him. “Doesn’t matter, anyways. Dick wanted me to tell you he wants to get to Cabeswater early, said something about aerial photos and tri-somethings-,” 

“Triquetras,” Adam interrupted, turning to lean back against the table, facing Ronan. 

“Tri-fuck if I care,” Ronan agreed, and continued, “so he’s coming by at 1:30 instead; also he’s bringing pizza.” 

“I can deal with that.” For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Adam watched Ronan carefully, more wakeful with each blink, and Ronan just looked back at him steadily, wondering why he was still here. He’d delivered Gansey’s message; he should leave now, let Adam drink his coffee and change in peace. 

“Is that the only reason you’re here?” Adam broke the silence, but it wasn’t a challenge or an accusation or a subtle way of saying _leave_. It simply was, as though Adam knew the answer, and the answer wasn’t _yes_. But Ronan didn’t know the answer -- why was he here? A message, to escape Declan and the congregation, the heat, to see Adam, even though he would see him in a few hours anyways. 

Ronan thought he maybe knew why. 

Maybe it was the expectant way Adam was watching him, maybe it was the selfish way his heart was pushing at his ribcage, urging him forward, maybe it was the heat still clinging to his shoulders and back and arms and mind, maybe it was the warm light surrounding Adam, his comfortable stance, the easy way he understood and accepted Ronan, now, always, maybe it was because Ronan felt like he’d never made the right decision a day of his life, but that didn’t mean he had to stop trying, maybe maybe maybe. He took a step forward, then another, the gap between them closing, and then his hand was on Adam’s neck and they were kissing, and Ronan wasn’t sure if it had been him or Adam who had closed the last four inches separating them, but he knew that Adam hadn’t pulled away, because Ronan could feel every nerve in his fingers, in his lips, and if Adam had even barely moved back, Ronan would have let him, immediately, without hesitation, but all that mattered right then was that Adam was kissing him back -- not pulling away, not standing shocked or frozen, but soft lips against his and the gentle pressure of Adam’s hands at his hips. 

When Ronan pulled away, breathing deeply, he could see red shading Adam’s cheeks, his neck, and then the smile on his face as he watched Ronan. 

“I think I like this reason better than _Gansey wanted me to tell you something_ ,” Adam smirked, and Ronan felt like his ribs had finally decided to relax. 

His response was to kiss the smug smile right off Adam’s face.

**Author's Note:**

> i hate these nerds so much 
> 
> u should come scream about them with me on [tumblr](http://reneewvlker.tumblr.com/)


End file.
